Chronicles of Narnia: Tale of the Two Sisters
by HatterandClareBear
Summary: The Wyland sisters were also evacuated to Professor Kirke's house. Follow them as they follow Lucy ... through the Wardrobe. *Movie-verse, first fanfic. Rated T because that's what we want. See inside for full summary*
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is Hatter of HatterandClareBear Inc. and this is ClareBear's first fanfic! Everyone cheer for ClareBear! Ok, down to business! Summary:**

**The Pevensie children weren't the only ones to be evacuated to Professor Kirke's house in the country. Follow the adventures of Elizabeth and Catherine Wyland as they follow the Pevensies ... through the Wardrobe. [Peter/OC, Edmund/OC, Susan/Caspian. Set in 1940's and mostly movie-verse, although there will be some of the books' scenes and storyline in it. Alternate Ending.]**

**Ok, so if you have a flame, please send it to the email address labelled "HATTER" in the profile, because any flames that are put in reviews are unnecessary. After all, this is ClareBear's _FIRST FANFIC_ and I know how nervous you all were when you posted your first fanfic. So, send your complaints to either Sarala23 or MysticalOddness23 or race jackson hotmail . com. Thank you.**

**Disclaimer: Neither ClareBear nor I own the Chronicles of Narnia books or movies.**

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><p>London at night, during the war, was tense, quiet; the parents stayed up as long as they could, eyes searching outside their homes; children went to bed with fear; the animals reacted badly to their now anxious habitats and masters. It was all waiting ... but for what, most didn't know. But soon they would.<p>

The dark streets suddenly erupted into life and fire. Overhead, the sounds of helicopters and planes pierced what once was a peaceful, but apprehensive night. Buildings ignited and exploded, and two teenage girls – one sixteen, the other fourteen – jolted awake in their beds.

The elder one was named Elizabeth and she had bright, fiery hair that was always curling and tumbling down her back. Her skin was pale but freckled, and her face was heart-shaped and beautiful. The green of her eyes became visible in the dark as she sat up and jumped to her feet, putting on her slippers as quickly as she could. Then she ran out of her room and into the next.

The younger one, Catherine, screamed and buried herself underneath the covers again, hands over her ears as to not hear the sounds of the houses exploding, as if in doing this she'd be safe. However, her covers were ripped off her bed and thrown aside, and the dark blue of her eyes shimmered into view. She was crying vigorously and could barely stand to look at who had ripped the sheets off. But she knew who it was; said person had soon snaked their tiny fingers around her wrist and hauled her out of her bed.

'Come on!' screamed Elizabeth. 'We haven't much time!'

The two sisters ran from the room in a panic, Catherine now sobbing harder than ever and gripping Ellie's arm as if it were the last thing on their dear Earth. Ellie merely said nothing about the vice-like grip, trying to calm down her own thoughts as they bounced about her head.

Unexpectedly, a door at the top of the stairs, leading to the girls' parents' room was flung open, a woman inside barrelling out, heading to the direction of Cat's room. It was Anna Wyland, the girls' mother. When she saw the girls running for her, she screamed for them to run to their bomb shelter.

There came a time when Ellie could no longer hear her thudding feet, nor her mother's or sister's. They were all drowned out by the screams of the Londoners and shouts and yells for help that came from neighbours. Similarly, Cat couldn't hear anything her mother was praying (for she was a devoted Catholic and prayed even harder since the war began), or what Elizabeth was saying; in fact, Cat could barely even see her mother and sister, and it scared her.

They were at the foot of the stairs, then they were passing through the dining room … the kitchen came next … out the back door and into the ya–

Abruptly, Cat turned around and darted back into the house, thundering up the stairs and bursting into her room. She flew to her dresser and began to paw through it. Whatever she was searching for was found quickly, as she soon sprinted out her room. Down the stairs again … through the dining room … into the kitc–

But this time, Cat made it no farther than the kitchen. With a loud, piercing _crack_, the kitchen windows shattered into millions of pieces, the glass showering the fourteen year old. Her blonde hair, ever so like her mother's, started to stain with scarlet. She vaguely heard someone scream – later she would find out that it was Ellie, terrified and scared, who'd ran back to the house to get her out – but she was too absorbed in the agony of her forehead. Even more vaguely was the feel of Ellie's strong arms encasing her torso, dragging her away.

But the world was wrenched apart in fire and rock and blood and everything went black.

**~*W*~**

'And do _try_ to be safe,' instructed Mrs Wyland, who was now in tears by this point. She wasn't the only one. Tears ran from all three pairs of eyes and it was Cat, who hated being seen crying ('After all,' she had said, 'I'm almost a woman now and women don't cry.'), that was crying hardest. She was practically bawling her blue eyes out and her nose was redder than that children's fantasy creature, Rudolph the Red-Nosed reindeer.

'Mamma!' she wailed, clutching her mother in in very tight embrace. 'I don't want to go! It's not safe for you either! Come with us!'

'Shhhh, Catey,' soothed Mrs Wyland in her softest voice, caressing her daughter's cheek gently. 'It will be alright. Nothing will ever happen to me, sweetheart, understand?'

'I understand,' sniffled Cat.

Mrs Wyland then changed the topic, patting Cat's head gingerly, her fingers avoiding the large white bandage on her forehead. 'Remember, if it gets too bad; just tell whoever is going to be looking after you about it and they'll be sure to do something.' Luckily, Cat's only injuries were a few (million) cuts and blood loss.

Ellie, standing close by to her family, put a piano-fingered hand on her little sister's shoulder and told her mother reassuringly, 'Don't fear for either of us, Mother, for we will be well in both mind and body. After all, what is the worst that could happen?'

Mrs Wyland didn't answer, but smiled and then ushered them (in a manner that was very fussy, sweet and motherly) onto the train with more hugs and kisses and 'I-love-you's then she'd ever given in her life. Cat and Ellie hung out of the doorway as long as they could before they had to poke their heads back in and find a compartment.

The red-headed girl threw an encouraging arm over her sister's shoulders and gave them a squeeze. As the steam engine pulled out from the station, she bent over and whispered in Cat's ear, 'Don't worry, Cat. The war will be over before we know it and then we can go home.'

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading! Remember, review!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! God, I know its been a while. ClareBear and I, we had this schedule, you see, but, well, "Situations arose, ensued, were (not) overcome." Yeah, so this is a week later than planned. We promise from now on, it will be updated every Friday. **

**Replies to your reviews (the amount of which are very good, for a first fic!):**

**RainbowShelby: We love it that you love it, and thank you for the first review. Trust us, we can't wait to write more. In English, we have these writing activities, and every time there's one, ClareBear writes something from Cat's POV. I mostly work on the main storyline during that time, or anything I'm working on (Jenna Morgan and the Time-Travelling Shrimp Platter).**

**awesomegrl77: I don't know why you're not signed in, but you are so lucky I calmed ClareBear down. She sent me numerous emails marked "IMPORTANT!" because you used our names. It was strangely hilarious for me. But anyway, she thanks you for your support and stuff. Say hi to Allira for me!**

**Onto the story!**

**Disclaimer: We don't, in anyway, own the Narnia series. If we did, they would never leave in Prince Caspian and the kids would be older. And less really bad things would happen. And Eustace would be nicknamed Useless. Yeah...**

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><p>"We might as well head to a compartment," said Ellie tentatively, putting her hand on her sister's shoulder. Cat instantly jerked it and stormed off down the corridor, Ellie's eyes on her back. She tried not to show her hurt, but, for a mere second, it flashed, plain as day, across her pale, heart-shaped face.<p>

After all, Cat had been like that for a while now, so the rudeness wasn't much of a surprise. Ever since Mr Wyland had left their Newington home to fight for England, Ellie had received nothing more than pain and frustration from her little sister, even though she'd tried numerous times to get her to behave again. But it was so hard: Cat was the stereotypical daddy's-little-girl, whereas Ellie was closer to their mother. It had caused a riff to come between the sisters (who used to be so close that if Cat wasn't younger, you'd swear she was Ellie's twin).

That being said, Elizabeth Wyland was _not _going to let Cat go off again without her, so she hastened to follow the blonde. Once she'd caught up, both sisters wordlessly went in search of a compartment to sit in for the ride to Coombe Halt.

However, they had to travel down the corridor for some time to find a compartment that had two spare seats. Finally, at about the middle of the carriage they started in, they came across a compartment with only four occupants, and two spare seats!

From the outside of the compartment, Ellie studied them quickly.

The eldest looked to be a boy with sandy-blond hair and silvery blue eyes. His face was more tanned than pale (but it wasn't by very much at all) and had not a freckle in sight. He seemed to be sixteen or seventeen, although Ellie supposed that he could pass for eighteen if he tried hard enough.

Next eldest appeared to be a fair-skinned, freckly-faced girl. She had ebony hair that cascaded in soft to in between her shoulders and elbows, and her irises were a stormy-grey. The girl had that look about her, too, that look that denoted beauty and intelligence wrapped into one.

It wasn't hard to tell who came next in the family of four siblings (they all looked too alike for that claim to be denied) – it was the boy in the corner, who resembled his older sister greatly with his sprinkling of freckles and dark-toned hair. His eyes were a warm, chocolate colour, but they didn't look so warm at the time – in fact, they looked haunted and bitter, as if the boy's anger and resentment was being bottled up inside him and was leaking out through his eyes.

But that was just Ellie's opinion.

And finally, the youngest was a little girl, of about ten or more (after all, she did seem a little tall for ten years old), with hair a vibrant, hazelnut-brown, cut into a small bob that came to her shoulders. Her irises looked to be a mix of the older two children's.

Sliding the door open, the two sisters stepped into the compartment. The sibling's eyes followed them both; Ellie blushed a little at the attention but Cat ignored them, shoving her heavy trunk into Ellie's chest. The girl winced, and threw Cat's trunk up onto the baggage rack.

Unfortunately for her, she miscalculated how heavy the case was and how high the rack stood at, and when she swung the case up, it rebounded, hitting her smack-bang in the face and toppling her over and landing in the blond boy's lap.

"Ow!" she screeched, clutching at her eye. Consequently, she dropped the case and it fell with a loud thud on the blond boy's foot. "Sorry!" she gasped.

"That's ok," he hissed, helping her up. "Here–" He bent down and retrieved the case, throwing it at Cat contemptuously. "Get you own case," he told her savagely. She just sneered. He turned his attention back to Ellie, noting that she still had her hands to her face in an attempt to block the pain. "My name's Peter Pevensie and these are my siblings, Susan–" the beautiful black-haired girl "–Edmund–" the sooky-looking black-haired boy "–and Lucy." He indicated the brunette girl at the name Lucy, and then held out his left hand (Ellie was holding her right hand to her face).

"Nice to meet you," she replied tightly, wincing. "I'm Elizabeth and this is my sister Catherine."

Peter gave a smile (neither Ellie nor his siblings had the heart to inform him that his smile was rather like a grimace) and they all sat down again.

And after that, for the rest the ride passed in silence. It seemed that everyone was too caught up in their own thoughts to voice them to anyone else. Susan was reading a book (but if you looked long enough, you'd notice that her eyes never moved and the page never turned); Lucy contented herself with falling asleep; Edmund stared out the window; Peter fidgeted and tapped his feet on the floor; Cat stared out her own window; and Ellie watched everyone else (although, she had to admit this was a most boring activity).

It was towards the end of the trip that the Wylands and Pevensies discovered that they were to go to the same evacuation country house, and it brightened the mood considerably so.

"Middleton Station, Middleton Station. Next stop is Coombe Halt," said the announcer.

"That's us, Lu," said Peter, standing up and taking his siblings' suitcases down. "We have to get off at Coombe Halt, so we might as well get ready."

"By Jove! Are you joking?" asked Ellie, a little more excitedly and enthusiastically than before. She jumped to her feet, almost knocking over Edmund as she went (she ignored him, though, because, in her opinion, he was a rather rotten boy who had a nasty look about him) and attempting to help Peter get the luggage. "Could you please pass down ours too, Peter? We have to get off at the next stop too."

"Really?" said Susan, smiling. "Perhaps we'll live nearby each other and we can meet for tea sometime."

"That would be nice," added Lucy.

"Well, we'll be at Professor Kirke's house," said Ellie, "according to this label."

And that was how they all found out that they were all going to Professor Kirke's house. Susan and Ellie struck up a friendly conversation while the others, gathered around them, were silent. The two girls chatted about their favourite books for a while, then their thoughts and sentences turned to music. Only a minute later, the announcer told them, "We are approaching Coombe Halt. Any passengers needing to depart from the train are asked to make their way to the nearest train exits."

The six trooped towards the train doors, which were only a few compartments down. Peter and Edmund (who'd both helpfully carried everyone's luggage)set the suitcases down next to the door ,and everyone crowded around, waiting for the train to stop. It did so five, quiet minutes later, screeching to a halt the doors opened, and they fathered their own cases into their arms and jumped from the train.

Coombe Halt was a very bland, grey stretch of concrete with a little set of steps leading down to the muddy road on one end and a small railing at the other. The word's _Coombe __Halt_ was printed in black, block letters above the railing.

There was also not a person in right.

"The Professor knew we were coming," said Susan sensibly. She looked around, as if the Professor was playing Hide-And-Go-Seek.

Then, from the muddy road came the sounds of an automobile. The teenagers and Lucy (who, the Wyland sisters found out, was ten) ran down the steps, luggage in hand. As it turned out, the automobile's horned only beeped and it drove away. Lucy's hand, which had reached out in greeting when she'd seen it, dropped slowly to her side.

"Perhaps we've been incorrectly labelled," suggested Edmund, twisting the paper attached to his coat and studying it.

"We haven't been incorrectly labelled, you dolt," snapped Cat. "The Professor lives around here and we're going to his house, so we're at the right station and thus labelled correctly."

"How would you know?" said Edmund, gritting his teeth and giving Cat an unpleasant glare.

Cat flicked a strand of honey-blonde hair out of her face and answered haughtily, "Mother and I went to visit Grandmother a few years before she died, and she had Professor Kirke over for tea. It was ever so lovely." When Ellie raised her eyebrows, Cat added, "You were at boarding school."

"How come you never told me?" demanded Ellie.

"You didn't need to know," answered Cat flippantly.

Lucy changed the topic.

"Even so, where _is_ the Professor?" she said, looking around as if the mud and the trees would yield the answer to her question. It seemed that she realised they wouldn't, though, because the little girl soon gave up and sat down on the steps. Her sister and Ellie joined her and resumed their conversation from the train, this time about the newest fashion in London. They included Lucy into this one, and she told them how she thought fashion was very silly.

They had been waiting for ages (twenty minutes, according to Peter's battered wristwatch) when finally there were new sounds from the road. The three girls jumped to their feet and raced to Peter, Edmund and Cat, who were all standing motionless by the road waiting. A few more seconds, then into view came a stern-looking woman conducting a horse-drawn carriage. While they watched, the carriage drew to a halt beside them.

Peter hesitated, before steeling himself and saying the name of the other person on the label. "Mrs Macready?"

"'Fraid so," she answered, eying them beadily. "Is that it, then? Haven't you brought anything else?"

"No ma'am," said Susan. Peter added slowly, "It's just us."

"Small favours," commented Mrs Macready dryly. Was it Ellie's imagination, or was there a twinkle in her eyes? "Well, come on."

The children clambered into the carriage, one after the other. When they were settled, Mrs Macready gave the horse a sharp tap with the whip, and off they went. Down the road a little further on, the trees grew closer together and the rocks either side of the still-muddy road were covered with a green moss. Small animals made scuttling noises in the sparse undergrowth. Above, birds chirped.

Finally, the carriage emerged from the trees. Sunlight sprinkled onto them, filtering through a large oak that hung over the group. Mrs Macready clicked her tongue and urged the horse further on with commands and taps with the whip. An old brick house came into view – only, it couldn't be called a house, for it was much too large to be called a house.

Mrs Macready wheeled the carriage to a small barn, the led the children, once they'd gotten off, over the front field. Ellie noticed that there was more than enough room to play games on the front lawn. Mrs Macready unlocked the doors and they opened soundlessly.

Then they entered the house.

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><p><strong>Review! <strong>

**Now, to clarify some things:**

**1. ClareBear asked me why I wrote that Mrs Macready had a twinkle in her eyes. I answer, "I just noticed that she always did in the movie, when she was saying something important or witty."**

**2. We will use the script as a basis, but they won't say exactly the same things as they did in the movies. After all, there are two more people, so the lines would be different. Plus, we don't want to divide the lines up between the Wylands and Pevensies. I read one like that, and at first it was good, then it went down the drain (for me at least, ClareBear didn't read it).**

**Stuff we were saying while writing this chapter and the next:**

_"And no touching the historical artefacts." can start it, k?_

_Yep awesome._

**_(_In orange pencil)**

_"Your boyfriend is an ass, did you know that? He almost killed an Narnian"_

_Peter: "Well, for what i remember, menetors* worked for the White Queen"_

_Cat: "Alot has changed, Petey"_

_Squiggly line ~~~~~~~~~_

**_(_Lead pencil again)**

_Why does she always have that "twinkle" in her eye, does now something?_

_I just noticed that she always did in the movie, when she was saying something important or witty_

_Oh ... Ok._

**End.**

***I left all the spelling and grammatical mistakes in there. Menetors = Minotaurs. **

**I bet you're wondering, "What's with the orange pencil?" Well, ClareBear couldn't be bothered using her writing pencil, and I had lent an orange pencil to our friends, Sarah and Ashley (who were doing their assignment, which I'd finished - so had ClareBear, but we weren't partners, unfortunately), to use for some obscure reason. Anyway, they gave it back but I didn't put it in my pencil case. ClareBear wanted to talk to me, but I wouldn't lend her my lead pacer (I was writing part of the story and I hate using coloured pencils on my writing pad) so she grabbed the nearest pencil and used it. **

**Songs listened to while writing this:**_ Glamorous,_** by**_ Fergie, ft. Ludacris _**and**_ In This Life, _**by**_ Delta Goodrem_


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